


Rhaenyra

by Embracingtheplotbunnies



Series: New Targaryen Dynasty [12]
Category: game of thrones
Genre: Babies, Childbirth, F/M, Family, Fluff, Non Graphic, Romance, mostly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11491335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embracingtheplotbunnies/pseuds/Embracingtheplotbunnies
Summary: Jon and Dany welcome their first child into the world.





	Rhaenyra

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)
> 
> So I was going to post this yesterday (on my birthday, yippee) but I ran out of time so I figured I'd post it today. 
> 
> I'm officially through the events of Eight Times, which means that I'll be getting into more of the 'next gen kids', so to speak. Expect more baby Starks, Baratheons, and (obviously) Targaryens in the near future! 
> 
> Disclaimer: as always, I don't own the show or its characters. My tumblr is   
> @blue-roses-in-a-wall-of-ice
> 
> I think that's everything! Enjoy!

Rhaenyra Targaryen was born on the first hot day after a week of unseasonably cold days. 

Jon was jolted from sleep because Dany was swearing in what sounded like (and probably was) three different languages. “What’s wrong?” Dimly, in the back of his mind, he registered that this was not normal and realized what might be happening-but the idea was so suddenly absurd and abrupt that he found himself searching for another explanation. 

At least until Dany tried to get out of bed. “The baby’s coming.”

He was out of bed before he realized he was moving, feet on the floor and vaulting over to the other side of the room. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll go get Sam.”

Dany groaned loudly. “Hurry up.” 

He practically fell down the stairs and only realized when he hit the ground running that he only had one slipper. Obella wandered out of her room, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “What’s happening?” 

“Stay there.” He made a mental reminder to send Gilly to get her and explain what was going on because he didn’t think he could. “The Queen is going into labor.” 

When he got to Sam’s room he hammered on the door, fists flying thick and fast until the door finally opened and Sam blinked at him sleepily. “What in the-”

“She’s going to have her baby.”

For a minute Sam just looked at him in blank confusion. “What? Now?”

“Yes, now! Come on!” 

“I’ll get Gilly.” 

Jon waited impatiently until they both emerged, yawning and half awake. He waited impatiently while they ran upstairs to the Queen’s chambers (Sam was practically hyperventilating from what Jon hoped was excitement and not fear). Then he waited impatiently outside the Tower of the Hand for Tyrion to open the door. 

His Hand was dressed in a new pair of velvet night things and didn’t look too happy to have been woken so early. “Seven hells, what’s wrong?” 

“The Queen is in labor.” 

“Fuck. Go back to the Keep-I’ll meet you there.” He disappeared back inside and Jon ran back into the castle. He had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do-what did one do in these kinds of situations? 

He flew up the stairs two at a time, racing to his bedchamber. Gilly and the second midwife they’d hired the week before, a pretty girl with red cheeks and straight brown hair, bustled in and out of the room straightening pillows and fetching cups of water for the Queen as necessary. Dany was propped up on a mound of pillows; every so often she would swear indiscriminately. The back of her neck was sticky with sweat. 

Even so, he thought she still looked beautiful. 

He took a seat next to her, suddenly feeling as though he couldn’t sit still. What if something went wrong-and then again, what if nothing did? Was he really ready to become a father? “Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

“I’m in labor, Jon. Am I supposed to be all right?” Even so, he saw the gratitude in her eyes and the way she squeezed his hand when he offered it to her. “And it’s only just started…” 

“You’ll be fine,” he said, squeezing her hand in return. “We’ve done worse than this, haven’t we?”

She choked out a laugh-which soon turned into a grimace of pain. “You can be insufferable sometimes, do you know that?”

The midwife-Rana, Jon remembered dimly-bustled back in with a handful of towels. For the first time he realized that she looked terribly young to be delivering a baby. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, your Majesties. Gilly and I know what to do-you’re doing a wonderful job, your Grace.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “My king, nothing will happen for another few hours at least…some men choose not to be in the delivery room until the baby is born-”

Jon didn’t need to look at his wife before he said “No thank you. I’ll stay here.” I won’t leave you, he thought. Not even for a second. 

 

The delivery dragged on through the night. Jon slept where he could, in awkward blocks of fifteen minutes in odd positions. Gilly and Rana were never far away, always bringing more water or words of comfort; nothing seemed to rattle them and they worked miracles to steady Jon’s nerves. Tyrion stopped in every hour or two to check their progress and slept in the guest bedroom across the hall the rest of the time. 

Except for the few times when Dany howled with pain. 

“Remind me why we decided to do this again,” she said after a particularly loud scream. She was breathing heavily and seemed to be doing everything in her power to hold back the obscenities that were no doubt threatening to burst forth. “Why does our child already hate me?” 

“She doesn’t hate you-”

“How did your Aunt Catelyn do this five times?”

“I don’t know-but you’re doing very well, I promise you.” He helped her take another sip of water, brushing her hair out of her face. “Only a little longer.” 

Dany lay back on the pillows, contemplating him carefully. The world outside was quiet; from the outside of the Keep, it would be hard to know that anything out of the ordinary was happening. “Tell me a story.”

It caught him off guard for a moment. “What?”

“Tell me a...story.” Her last word became a pained gasp. 

“About what? I think I’ve told you all of the good ones-”

“It doesn’t matter. Make one up if you have to.” He didn’t know if it was possible to drink water angrily, but his wife was certainly trying to. “I just need to get my mind off how much I want this child out.” 

“All right…” He thought frantically. “Have you heard the story about the last Greenseer?”

"Probably, but tell it again.” 

So he did. They seemed to forget where they were for a minute, caught up in the beauty of a story-until the next contraction came. 

 

She hadn’t expected it to hurt this much. 

Looking back on it now, she probably should have-the mothers she'd met had always said that childbirth was the hardest thing a woman could do. It required a certain kind of strength, a strength that only women ever had. 

Over almost sixteen hours of labor, she was gaining infinitely more respect for her mother-and for Catelyn Stark, for going through this pain five times. 

“Drink something, my queen.” Rana held the cup of water up to her mouth and helped her swallow, taking care not to spill so much as a drop on the velvety soft bedspread. “You have to keep your strength up.” 

“Have you had any children, Rana?” Another contraction came and she tried to breathe the way the midwife had taught her but it was hard to think about anything through the fog of pain. 

“Two, your majesty. A boy and a girl.”

“Oh. And what are their names?”

“Myrielle and Iziah. I hope to have another.”

“That’s...wonderful.” She swore in Valyrian; she hated childbirth and everything about it, especially because there was no potion she could take to dull the pain. 

And all the while there was that angry voice in her head-the voice that kept reminding her how both her mother and Lyanna Stark had died from complications in childbirth. She wouldn’t die here, would she? How could she survive so much death just to die in a bed of life? 

What if Vaelaena had been a warning sign? 

She couldn’t tell if the weight on her chest came from fear or pain. 

“Are you all right?” Jon asked, massaging the back of her hand. He sat next to her at the head of the bed, a strong and steady presence-she didn’t want to admit how much he helped her just by being at her side. 

She bit her lip, pushing past her reflex desire not to show weakness. “I’m afraid. What if something’s wrong with the baby?” Or me, she thought but didn’t say. “I don’t want her to grow up without a mother.” 

For the first time she realized that his hand was shaking and he was just as scared as she was. “The baby’s fine. You’re doing everything exactly right.” 

“We thought we did everything right last time.”

“You’ll be just fine-both of you.” 

“Promise?”

He looked pained. “You know I can’t. If it's any consolation, I've been praying to the Old Gods.” She didn't believe in them, but he supposed that any divine intervention was better than none. 

“Then that will have to be good enough."

“It will be. I’m sure of it.” 

 

“You’re almost there, your Majesty.” Rana smiled reassuringly as she came in with a cup of cold ice chips. “It shouldn't be long now.”

Jon waited for his wife to say something along the lines of how much she hated children and hated him for agreeing to do this but she didn’t say anything; she just squeezed his hand harder and sighed deeply. 

Rana left again and she finally turned to look at him, trying to wipe her hair out of her eyes. “I look hideous.”

“No you don’t,” he replied. “You look beautiful.” 

She sighed. “What if something goes wrong, Jon?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Rana says that this is all very normal.” 

“But if something changes-”

He kissed her to cut her off, brushing the last few strands of hair from her forehead. “You’ll be fine. You’re in the best of hands. I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

“I know.” A hint of a smile played on the edges of her lips. “Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve never seen you fall down the stairs before.”

“I never fell down the-” 

Her laugh subsided into a grimace. “I think it’s time.”

 

Jon jumped the next time the door opened, allowing himself to feel righteously indignant. Wasn’t he the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms? Why was he being forced to wait outside during one of the most important moments in his life?

Rana had laughed as she ushered him outside. “You’re lucky, my King. Most men aren’t so calm around women in labor-I usually have to send them out long before this. But Gilly and I will handle the rest from here.” And that, apparently, had been that. 

He paced the hallway, listening through the door and trying to make out the muffled voices from inside. What were they saying? Was everything still going according to plan? Was she all right? 

Rana stepped out in front of him and made a quick curtsy. “Your Highness.”

“Is she all right?”

“Your wife is fine. You’re welcome to come inside now-it’s a little girl. Both her and the queen are healthy.” 

Later he thought he remembered saying thank you but he couldn’t quite remember; his memory seemed to work in fits and starts, and suddenly he was inside the room. Daenerys sat propped against a mound of pillows, looking absolutely worn out and exhausted-and in her arms she carefully held a tiny infant with a small mop of white blonde hair. “Meet Rhaenrya,” she said quietly, almost whispering. “She’ll be strong and daring, just like her predecessor."

He sat down next to her, carefully, on the other side of the bed. He suddenly felt too tall; how could he possibly be around something-someone-so small and perfect? “I like it. She’s beautiful.” 

“She’s healthy.” Dany cradled her a little closer, still sweaty with exhaustion, and he could almost feel the regret mixed in with her joy-perhaps thinking of the two children she'd lost before this one. 

“And she’ll stay that way,” he added. In case she needed reassurance but didn’t want to tell him. 

“Of course.” 

He suddenly felt strangely, vividly, happy as he took them both in-as Rhaenyra blinked sleepily up at him and grabbed one of his fingers in her tiny palm. Her mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to say something. She had Dany’s hair, but she had his eyes. “I love you-both of you.” He kissed her head and then his wife’s and for a moment there was nothing he wanted to do more than to stay here forever, in a moment filled with possibility for what could-and would-come next. 

Dany was whispering something in Rhaenyra’s ear so he stood and crossed to the windows, throwing open the heavy curtains so he could see the late afternoon sunlight glinting down on the city. There would be an announcement later and a nursery to move into and hopefully more children after...and then one day, the tiny baby in his wife’s arms would sit on the throne, wearing the crown that had once been Aegon the Conqueror’s. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Dany asked, passing her gently into his arms when he walked close again. 

She felt so small and warm in his arms. “Hello little dragon,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her forehead. “Welcome to the world.” 

He knew that it was probably a trick of the light but he could have been sure that she smiled back at him. 

He didn’t know if his heart had ever felt so full. 

 

After the grueling twenty hours of labor they slept-Jon and Dany in the bed and the others in their chambers or in nearby bedrooms. Rana came in every hour on the hour to check on the baby and on Dany, but she always ducked out as soon as she saw that all was well. 

Dany could barely sleep, because she was so acutely aware of Rhaenyra and too happy to close her eyes. She wanted to freeze the moment in her mind-Jon lying next to her, one hand on her shoulder, Rhanyra cradled in her arms. The baby blinked up at her every now and then but never cried. She couldn’t be happier; she didn’t think she could deal with a crying baby when she was too tired herself. 

As if he sensed she was awake Jon’s eyes blinked open. They shifted around the darkened room before they focused on her-and then they lit up. 

He pressed a kiss to Rhaenyra’s forehead. “Can’t sleep?”

“I’m too happy.”

“Me too.” He sighed and poured her another glass of water. “I told you it would be fine, didn’t I?”

“Mmm.” She passed Rhaenyra to him, smothering a laugh at her warrior husband cradling the tiny baby in his arms like she was the most precious of creatures. “Jon?” 

“Hmm?”

“I want more children.”

He laughed. “You don’t want to see how this one goes first?”

“No. We’ll adopt next time.”

“Whatever you’d like.” 

She closed her eyes and turned on her side, watching Rhaenyra reach for her father’s nose. “I love you.” 

“Good night, Dany.” She heard the smile in his voice-the love of her life, one of the only constants she had. Along with, now, her love of Rhaenyra. “I love you too.”

She fell asleep listening to the music of her daughter’s soft breathing.


End file.
